Unforgiven
by Luna Quiche
Summary: He is right. They are wrong. - A small fragment of Teru Mikami's teenage years.


It's a classroom. Whatever you remember your time in middle school as, time of your life or better forgotten nightmare, this is definitely a classroom. Homeroom seems to be over, only a few boys are still left. A group of taller guys, a small and shy one and then a boy in the back, tidying up the classroom. The one in the back might seem vaguely familiar. Black hair in a style that might be considered close to a certain prosecutor's one, glasses… and look, isn't that a name-tag, confirming this is in fact Teru Mikami, class representative?

But either way, in the first part of the scene the camera focuses on the other boys. They surround the small one, asking for money, threatening, the usual kind of bullshit. Teru in the back, raises his head, watching them warily… no _wearily_.  
And then the first kind of physical attack threatens to happen and suddenly Teru is right there, taking the punch intended for the other boy. The assaulter laugh.

"Ya never learn, do ya? Look guys, let that one go and get some others! We've got a volunteer!"

The small boy scrambles to his feet and rushes out of the classroom without even so much as looking back at Teru, who is now grabbed by his collar. He tries to break free, but only halfheartedly so. He knows he stands no real chance. He knows that if he shouted, nobody would come for him and that was exactly how it went. He wasn't a victim, he was a protector. And if he was in trouble there was nobody left to rush to the rescue. He doesn't resist much when they push him around a bit, but as his glasses fall to the ground he reaches for them. His hand is immediately kicked away by a bully.  
The classroom fills with other people, slowly. Bad guys and dragged-along girls from the other classes. No teacher. Just piercing eyes. Cold. Looking down on Mikami for being everything he was. 'You', the looks said, 'are not ever allowed to be human, you, you deserve no pity, you. This is your fault'.  
But Teru knows it isn't true. _They_ are inhuman, _they_ are unrighteous,_ they are all wrong._ In this room of people he was the only one who didn't have to be ashamed. The only one.  
But as the bullies get another idea, a new one, he can't help but feel fully violated. Bit by bit he is forced to take of his clothes, half threatened to do it himself, half violently stripped. As he undresses more bruises and scratches can be seen. He had been beaten not long ago. Victory claims of these people.

Soon Teru stands naked in front of the others, unable to get away, surrounded completely. He stares at the ground, unwilling to look up at them. Bruises everywhere. A frail, pathetic figure in a surreal scene. The other children laugh, cellphones are taken out. Pictures, pictures. Tomorrow everybody on the school would see.

Teru swallows hard. He is used to being mistreated, but this takes it to a new level. Exposed, losing all sense of privacy, of himself. His body belonged to them, they could do whatever they wanted. Anytime, at their whim, no matter what. But Teru wouldn't run, _couldn't_ run. He was_ right_, they were _wrong_. He was righteous they were not. He couldn't move, couldn't give in. He couldn't hit back. Teru Mikami was right. The world was wrong. He glances up and spots some faces in the classroom that he knows. He had helped those people, back in primary school.  
A smile. A 'thank you'.

Unattainable things.

"Hah. Really, how can he be so fuckin' stupid? It hurts already, hey, make him stop. Dumb kid. Has no idea what he's doing, could as well be running against walls."

Laughter.

"…you're wrong."

This time Teru says it out lout, looking up at them. Broken eyes, but he could still stand. Still hold himself up just fine. It was alright, because…

"You're wrong."

Just because of that. They were wrong.

Teru Mikami was right.

_Righteous._

"Haha, whoa, is that shithead insulting us? Are we taking that?"

The first punch lands on his face and the girls leave the classroom one after another, accompanied by the weaker guys, the random followers. None of them would go and get help. This was middle school. Everyday life.  
A kick sends Mikami straight to the ground, a few others follow. Pulled up by his hair, laughed at.  
They were always laughing. Because they didn't understand._ Wrong, wrong, _**_wrong_**. A world turned upside down.  
As the last one of them has left, Mikami slowly picks himself off the ground. It's easy to see that he's finding it hard to stand, but he doesn't cry, does barely make any noise of pain at all. This is normal. One by one he picks up his clothes, redressing. When he's done with that he actually goes out of his way to put the tables and chairs back into order, even though at time he finally has to wince in pain. Only when that is done he walks out of the classroom. Carrying his own weight even though his body seemed only one go from falling apart. Teru could go on. There _was _justice in this world.

**A/N: This is actually a fragment of Teru's life I wrote for roleplay a few months ago but in it's length and detail it passes as a fanfiction just fine. As I reread it just now I felt like I should share it.**


End file.
